


Little Soldier

by a_q



Category: Despicable Me (2010)
Genre: Cars, Gen, Guns, Kidnapping, Misses Clause Challenge, Neighbors, Original Character(s), Party, Sisters, Smoking, Snow and Ice, Theft, Threats, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fake Santa has kidnapped Edith and Margo goes to Gran for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nerissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerissa/gifts).



> I couldn't find what Gru's mothers name was, so I named her Alice.

Margo pulled her ponytail as tight as she could, and tugged the loose strands behind her ear. She picked the screwdriver from the seat and considered the situation for a moment. 

It hadn't looked complicated in the book and she had read it from the cover to cover. _How to Hot-Wire a Car: Pre-war, Military and Post-war Models vol.1_. She didn't know what the volume two might include, but the first part had been full of detailed trivia about engines. The book hadn't said what to do when it was so dark inside the car that you couldn't see a thing. Or that your hands would be cold, or your fingers numb. 

She pushed her glasses up her nose. Enough with this. 

She placed the tip of the screwdriver in the seam of the panel and shimmied it up and down. Nothing. She put some muscle in it and the plastic gave in with a loud pop. She pulled it away, the wiring following out with the panel. Red, white, blue and green. So far so good. 

”Margo, did it work?” Agnes asked from the back seat. ”Are we going to Gran's house now?” 

Margo had bundled her up with the winter coat and warm scarf, gloves and knitted hat. The unicorn toy had an identical scarf and Agnes clutched it in under her arm, strapped in the seat belt. Margo leaned to look at her over the seat and smiled. 

”We'll go in a second. Would you sing me that song you learned? You did it so well the first time.”

” _Petit poisson, petit poisson..._ ” Agnes started to sing, her voice clear in the car. Margo turned back to the wiring, picking apart the black and blue, then white and green. Post-war model X-73, electronic controlling with advanced fusion engine, user-friendly and easy to handle. And even easier to steal, as it turned out. 

She spat out a piece of gum she had chewed into stringy paste and used it to connect the two wires. The lights flickered, the dashboard lighting up in green glow. Agnes stopped signing and leaned forward, peering through the crack between the seats. 

”It worked! You are really good at this!” 

”Sit back, alright? I'm almost done.”

Margo tucked the wires back inside the panel and looked around for the little plastic strip she needed. It was easier with the light. She could see the insides of the panel, the helpful arrows meant for the certified mechanics. She found the plastic and yanked it off, folded it in two and used the piece to bind together the white and the purple wire, then the striped yellow and brown wires. The car turned on, exactly like the book had said. Margo waited for a moment, holding her breath. They would get caught now or never. 

Nothing happened. No alarms, no lights in the window. The neighborhood stayed dark and quiet.

”That's how you do it,” she muttered to herself and pulled her gloves back on. ”Ready Agnes?”

”Do you know how to drive?” 

”Sure,” Margo said with the best big sister voice she could manage. It couldn't be that hard, could it? There was front of the car, back of the car, left and right. Easy. She settled on the seat, testing her reach for the pedals. This was a low model. Only one pillow on the seat and she was all set. Margo pushed the buttons and let the car roll down the driveway, turning the steering wheel. The car dropped from the driveway to the street and then they were on the move. She peered forward in the darkness, before she remembered to flick on the headlights. 

“Edith might be afraid alone,” Agnes said. Margo glanced to the rearview mirror to see what Agnes meant. “But she's brave. She might not be. Do you think she is?”

“Edith isn't alone,” Margo said. “Don't worry. Dad's with her.” 

She didn't know if that was true, but she decided to believe that it was. It was very likely, in any case. He wouldn't leave Edith alone. That is, if he could help it. He might have no choice. All his weapons were home, except the freeze ray gun that was next to Margo on the front seat. It was just for precaution. Margo stared at the road, pressing the pedal and the car picked up some speed. The streets were clear, the wind had pushed the snow into smooth mounds over the pavement. The car started to warm up and she pulled her gloves away, tossing them on the seat. She used the breaks when approaching the crossroad and turned right. 

Agnes started to doze off, Margo pressed the accelerator and car purred forward, the snow rising up in a glimmering cloud. At the end of the road, one house was lit up, the porch decorated with flickering lights, bright fuchsia and gold. Margo slowed down and the car slid forward on the icy street, stopping some way from the gate. Margo sighed in relief and pushed the button that made the car power down, the steering panel going dark. 

“We're here?” Agnes asked, her voice quiet, her cheek pressed against the furry flank of the unicorn. Margo knew Agnes was tired, but she had decided it would be safer to stay together than trust the minions to look after her. Also, Agnes had insisted that she could help find Edith and Margo knew it would be a waste of time to argue with her when she had made up her mind. 

“Yes, we're here. Put your gloves on.” 

Margo leaned between the seats to unbuckle Agnes' seat belt before opening the door and letting cold air in. She rushed to open the back door, helping Agnes and the unicorn out, making sure that she had her gloves on, that her scarf didn't strangle her. Margo took Agnes' hand and led her to the front door. She could hear the music and people laughing. Agnes looked around, admiring the lights. Margo pressed the bell, the sound chiming over the racket. Nothing happened and she pressed again, longer. 

“Mrs. Lux, I told you, if the music is too loud, you should join the party and... Girls? What's wrong?” Gran looked down on them, surprised. She had a black cigarillo in her mouth, and she held a big glass in her hand, full of stuff that looked like liquid gold. Her dress was sparkling red and full of feathers. Agnes gasped in amazement, staring at her. Margo tried to be polite and not to. 

“You look very pretty Gran,” Agnes said.

“Thank you dear. Come in, come in.” She held the door open for them and Margo ushered Agnes inside. 

The house was decorated with the gold ornaments, the air heavy with smells of food, cigar smoke and something else Margo couldn't quite put her finger on. The living room was crammed with round tables, people in fancy dresses playing cards and laughing. Margo turned to look at Gran.

“I'm sorry to interrupt your party, but we need your help. Santa got Edith,” Margo said. “Dad went to get her, and they didn't come back.” 

“It's a 'poster!” Agnes interjected. “It's not the real Santa! Real one would never take Edith.”

“I'm sure he wouldn't,” Gran said, frowning. “Come through to the kitchen.”

Gran's kitchen was always a comfortable mess, and this time it was more so than usual. The counters were full of empty plates, glasses and serving dishes. Margo figured that the party had started with a dinner, and since the oven was still on, they were headed to the dessert course. It smelled like pie. Margo pulled a chair and sat down, opening her coat. It was warm in here, familiar, and she started to feel slightly better. Gran would know what to do. 

Gran helped Agnes to take off her coat and sit down, the unicorn settled next to her. She picked the plastic wrap from the plates of leftovers and pushed them closer. There was all kinds of miniature food, it looked fancy. “Here, have something to eat,” Gran said. 

“Can I have some chocolate milk?” Agnes asked, picking up a tiny sandwich, cut to resemble a star.

“Of course you can, dear.” Gran turned to pick the milk carton from the fridge and pulled a clean glass from the shelf. “Why don't you tell me what happened Margo?”

“We took gifts to the Orphanage yesterday,” Margo started, telling her how Edith said she had seen Santa casing the joint, and how no one had believed her at first. Edith had gotten all upset about it, and kept telling them that she could prove it, that it was some sort of impostor, up to something, and then she vanished. 

Gran listened to the whole story without commenting, pouring the chocolate milk for Agnes and then leaning on the kitchen counter, smoking quietly. When Margo had finished, she crossed her arms, and glanced at them over her glasses. 

“Now, what have I told you girls? When you go out on your own, you...”

“Take back-up,” Margo said. 

“Have a big weapon!” Agnes piped in before stuffing the miniature sandwich in her mouth. 

“Correct. And what did Edith do?”

“She might have a weapon,” Margo said, thinking back. “The Minions helped her to make sawed-off shotgun. But she kept it in the workshop, she wanted to add some features to it.”

“She painted it pink. It's drying,” Agnes said helpfully. “And she didn't want us to go with her to look for the Santa. I asked.”

Gran made a noncommittal sound, reaching to tap the cigarillo over the sink, the ash falling down in a big clump. She put the cigarillo back to her mouth and went to the kitchen drawer, tapping the panel in particular formation. It popped open, revealing a secret compartment. She reached inside to pull out a flintlock pistol, long barrel decorated with complicated engravings. She shoved it under the glittering red sash around her waist. Before Margo had a chance to ask what she was planning, she walked to the living room doorway.

“John!” Gran called. “Come in the kitchen for a minute!”

A man in a black dinner jacket came in the kitchen. Margo had never seen him before, but he seemed to be good friends with Gran. They stood awfully close to each other, and he smiled at Gran like she was the only person in the room. 

“You called, _mon amour_?”

The man had a smooth and golden voice, it made Margo think the hot caramel sauce Edith liked to add over ice-cream. Agnes nudged her with her elbow and Margo turned to look at her. 

“I know that word!” she whispered conspiratorially. “It means love!”

“Shh. Eat your sandwich,” Margo muttered and picked a sandwich too. Mom had told her once that a woman had a right to keep her secrets, and Margo had a feeling that this might be one of Gran's. 

“I have to step outside with the girls for a moment,” Gran told him. “Be a dear and see that everyone has enough to eat and drink? We shouldn't be gone for long.”

“Something I can help with?” the man asked.

“No, girls and I will handle this,” Gran said. “It's a family matter.”

He smiled, wrinkles appearing in the corner of his eyes. He bowed politely at them. 

“Then I leave you to it. Ladies.” He walked back to the living room. Someone turned the music louder, a woman starting to sing. 

“Alright girls, let's go,” Gran said. 

“Where are we going?” Agnes asked, snatching a fistful of purple macaroon's from a plate and stuffing them in her pocket. Margo wanted to tell her not to, it wasn't good manners, but since Gran didn't mind, it didn't matter. 

“Just across the street,” Gran said. “Button up your coats, I don't want you to catch cold.”

Margo made sure Agnes' coat was all buttoned up before pulling her own coat on. Agnes clutched the unicorn under her arm and they marched after Gran to the foyer. She kicked off her high heels, pulling on heavy black boots and grabbed a black wool coat from the hanger before opening the door to the cold night air. 

Gran walked down the path to the sidewalk and Margo followed after her, holding Agnes' hand. Gran stopped next to the car and looked it up and down. She tossed her cigarillo in the snow where it sizzled and died. 

“Look at that. X-73! You don't see these beauts a lot these days. You took this?” she asked, turning to look at Margo. 

She nodded carefully, not sure if she should admit to it or not. Clearly Gran could see that this wasn't Dad's car, so obviously she had gotten it from somewhere. It didn't mean she had to confess to anything, Gran had said it herself once. Margo straightened up, staring Gran squarely in the eyes. 

“I borrowed it. I left a note.”

“You signed it with your own name?”

“No.”

“Good,” Gran said and nodded. “Smart girl. That's the usual rookie mistake. Come along then.” 

Gran pushed her hands in her pockets and walked across the street, the snow rising up underneath her boots in soft thuds. Margo followed her, trying to keep up. 

“Now, girls, we are going to go talk with Mrs. Lux, and at some point of that conversation, I might have to shoot something to prove a point. You can chide me later, but whatever you do, don't say anything in front of Mrs. Lux.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Deal?”

“Yes,” Margo said immediately. Agnes looked a bit apprehensive but nodded too. 

“Good.” She turned to the right, walking on until they came to the house with a red picket fence. She stopped at the gate, turning to look at them. 

“Now before we go there, I want to see your 'this is serious business' faces.”

Agnes scowled on command. Her expression was loopy, but it was a good one. Gran nodded, approving. Margo knew Edith had the best look, everyone said so, and Agnes had the most animated but Margo had always trust in control. She went cold inside her head, like she had the freeze ray inside her. She stared at Gran and Gran stared back at her for a long while, with a strange expression. Finally she nodded.

“I should've known you got it the most,” she said quietly. "When I say 'kids these days', use those." Before Margo could ask what that meant, Gran pushed the gate and held it open for them. 

Behind the gate was a yard full of plastic animals, chasing each other in frozen postures. They were all illuminated from the inside, the colors incredible. There were green reindeers, yellow bunnies, ocean blue cats and one glowing, purple unicorn that stopped Agnes right on her feet.

“Look,” she sighed with a wondrous delight. “It's a _real_ unicorn. Does it move? Does it speak? What's his name? I have to know!”

“Calm down, you have your own unicorn. That's plastic, it's not real,” Margo muttered quietly, keeping eye on Gran. She marched up the stairs to the front door, pushing the doorbell. Leaning on it, in fact. The bell inside kept chiming and when nothing happened, Gran hammered her fist against the door so that the glittering wreath danced up and down. 

“Mrs. Lux, get out here!”

The lock rattled and Gran backed down from the porch, taking her stance in the middle of the driveway, her heavy black boots sinking in the white snow, the sparkling red of her gown trailing behind her like a tail. She glanced over her shoulder and winked before turning back to watch the door. It opened and a woman stepped out, peering at them. 

The woman was tall, clutching a green cardigan over her skinny frame. Her hair was brown, weaved on a braid. She looked around the yard, like she expected more people to jump out behind the plastic animal menagerie. Margo thought she didn't look like a person who should own a glowing purple unicorn.

“What do you want? Who are these children?” she asked, staring at them.

“I heard your kid is up to his usual tricks,” Gran said. “He took my granddaughter and my son. You are going to call your boneheaded offspring, right now, and tell him to return them, in my house, in next half an hour. Go.”

“You can't order me around, Alice,” the woman said. “You are in my yard. Leave before I kick you out!”

Gran pulled her pistol slowly, making a point of it, and aimed at the pink squirrel. She pulled the trigger. The gun made a jingling noise, the squirrel engulfed in a shimmering cloud that exploded into confetti and glitter, splattering all over the pristine snow in bright red burst.

“Make the call or Rudolph gets it next,” Gran said with a pleasant voice and turned her aim to the green reindeer. “Your choice, Lux.”

“Glitter gun? You barmy old witch! I'll call the Chairman, he'll evoke your membership from the Guild for this!”

“John is enjoying cognac and cigars in my living room as we speak. You want to talk with him? Go right ahead, try your luck. See what he says.”

There was a moment of tense silence, as the two women stared each other down. Gran's hand didn't waver, the pistol aimed at the reindeer. Margo pulled Agnes closer despite her objections. Mrs. Lux grimaced, fingers digging in her arms like she had to stop herself from throttling Gran. 

“Does neighborhood loyalty mean nothing to you? My son...”

“Is not in my neighborhood, or I would be beautifying his front lawn,” Gran said. “Now, get on the phone, call your spineless spawn and tell him to bring my granddaughter back. You don't want the girls here to lose their cool, do you? You know what they say about the kids these days.”

Margo nudged Agnes shoulder and she did the serious face on cue. Margo stared at the woman as coldly as she could, until she felt frozen all the way to the bone. The woman made an ugly face at them. 

“Fine. But I won't forget this,” she hissed. “Not by a long shot!” She went back inside, slamming the door behind her. Gran lowered the gun and smacked her palm against the engraved butt, the muzzle sputtering bright sparks of glitter that made the snow fume on impact. 

“I don't think I would've gotten an another shot out of this old thing,” she said. “Good thing Lux has never bothered to read a single gun magazine in her life. Alright, that's settled. Why don't we go make some cocoa? Edith might want some when she gets back.” 

“That's it?” Margo asked. “That's all we are going to do?”

“Yes, that's it. Trust me, I know Lux. This happens every year. Besides, her boy is a big wet noodle, I bet by now Edith has scared him out of his fake red pants. He'll be glad to get his mom to save his butt once again. It's a tradition in that family.”

Agnes giggled and Gran took her hand, leading her back to the street. Agnes waved to the unicorn, saying bye bye over and over as long as she could still see it. Margo followed them, trying to understand. She trusted Gran, but she didn't know this Mrs. Lux. Why would she do anything to help Edith?

“I can hear you thinking,” Gran said, crossing the street. “What's bothering you, dear?”

“It just didn't feel like we did anything,” Margo said. “One shot and she just caved.”

“We found a weak spot, and we used it for our advantage,” Gran noted. “That's all you ever need. Don't bother with complicated plans. Find a weakness and hit there hard, quick and efficient. And when you are really good at it, you don't even have to hit. Remind me to tell you a story about a con-woman who stole a whole safe full of jewels with nothing but a paper clip and a postcard from Amalfi coast." 

"Was it you Gran?" Agnes asked.

"Might have been. I'm old, I don't remember every detail," Gran said and smirked, leading them back to her driveway.

“But one exploding squirrel? Really?” Margo asked. Gran might be right, but she wanted to be sure that they had really done everything they could to get Edith and Dad back safely. 

“Weak spots take all kinds of forms. That's why they are hard to find.”

“Do you have a weak spot Gran?” Agnes asked.

“Of course dear, everyone does.” She helped Agnes up the steps to the porch. 

“What is it?”

“I can't tell you. Weak spots are a secret. Never tell yours to anyone,” Gran said and smiled, tickling Agnes under her chin to make her giggle. Margo knew she did that to take the worst sting from her words, but she was dead serious. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Agnes said, though Margo was sure she didn't understand what she promised. Gran turned to look at her. Margo thought about it for a moment. She knew her own weak spot, and she was sure it was obvious to anyone who bothered to look. 

“I promise to hide mine better,” Margo said. Gran smiled, beaming with pride. Margo smiled back. 

“That's my little soldier. Now, let's get out of this cold.” 

“Are we in trouble Gran?” Agnes asked, taking her hand again. “The real Santa won't think we are bad, will he?”

“He will see that you are smart and brave girls,” Gran said. “Let's go inside and make that cocoa. Edith will be back before you know it, and while we wait, I'll teach you girls how to cheat in poker, how about that?”


End file.
